My Heart's Opposition
by Iseki
Summary: Oneshots based  very  loosely on Rival Heart Events, sometimes borrowing inspiration from ToT. Luke/Selena, Gill/Luna, Chase/Maya, Toby/Renee, Julius/Candace, Owen/Kathy, Calvin/Phoebe, Jin/Anissa
1. Luke and Selena

_AP Rival Shorts: Luke/Selena, Gill/Luna, Chase/Maya, Toby/Renee, Julius/Candace, Owen/Kathy, Calvin/Phoebe, Jin/Anissa_

_A/N: thank you HairyFace, for being my muse—here we go!_

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><p><em>LukeSelena_

Her hips were as rhythmic as a snake. And her venom was just as lethal. That was it; from the first time he saw her dance he fell to her poison. Afterward he was just another of the many regular faces that would visit the bar with damp palms and rounded eyes full of fervour. He wanted to stand apart and he hoped that she remembered his name, but amongst the other patrons he couldn't help but feel part of the furniture.

Now and again her gaze would fall upon him and his insides would leap, tenuously leaving him on the verge of believing that the look was secret and only meant for him. But this in certainty was the same as some of the other regulars deliberated; her dark rolling hips accented by sheaves of filmy material and tempestuously heavy lashes that hid the eyes of an enchantress.

In this way he did not understand; if he wasn't happy to be one of her many devotees then what did he want?

If he had the courage to meet her outside of the Inn perhaps he'd discover the answer, but since their introduction on the pier he couldn't find the occasion. He worked and he sweat and she often interrupted his thoughts when the stars began to peek through the cloud cover high above the trees, but he never tried to find her outside of that darkened smoky room.

Finally the moment found him.

"Luke." She blinked, all emerald sash and perfection in the falling autumn leaves. "You're here." The effect was like a bolt of lightning. Thankfully, as he'd proven at the young age of three, he had always been the vocal type.

"Selena, wow, you look nice— I mean awesome." There was only a small pause as he reacquired his grip on the heavy box he was carrying. "Dad's got me running the stall this year, so I'm here all day."

"Hmm," She considered, her gaze lingering on him as it travelled from his booted toes to the bandage he was always reapplying. People were filtering in around their obstruction, some in a bustle and some at a slow and steady pace, but he hardly took any notice. He felt more conscious of his appearance than ever before.

"Buy me a flower?" her velvet tones interrupted the fierce onset of reticence just in time. Although it was certainly more of a demand than a request he heaved a sigh of relief.

"Sure, okay."

She didn't follow after him as he continued to arrange the stall. She didn't even look back as he did. Only when he had left the gazebo arranged, his cash box out of view, and a green bell-shaped flower richer in hand did she turn her ever-keen eyes back on him. He passed the bloom to her, mindful of the odd quickening in his pulse and the feebleness in his knees, and awaited her response.

"It's a bit plain isn't it?" The shadow of boredom crossed her features before hiding illusively in the corner of her mouth.

"I thought it matched." He bleated, pleased that he had an encouraging answer for her; she was after all clothed entirely in green.

"But I like lilies." Her mouth turned down and her hands found her hips- still hypnotizing even in their stillness- in a show of disapproval.

"Oh, you didn't say." He shook himself, turning back towards the flower vendor before perfectly manicured nails grazed against his bicep, pulling his attention back.

"It's okay." Her bottom lip fell victim to her teeth as it was pulled taut for one vivid second. He'd never seen her impressed as intensely while she stood still. "I like this one."

For the festival she danced to the sound of the crowded stands, silver and copper dropping into a hat nearby, and a plain green flower in her hair. He enjoyed it much more from his busy stall under the brisk autumn daylight than at the bar in that poorly lit room full of eyes.

The island was lazy at the end of it and the merriment and crowds drifted out like a slow tide. The sunset coloured the discards of the day prettily, so that even the litter seemed warm in its place. He like the others didn't rush to pick himself up, but once he'd loaded the last of the goods away he saw the remarkably distinct tapestry of her resting no more than a yard or two away; her hair hung loosely in a scarlet wave as she counted her coins.

"Wow, you did pretty well." His heavy steps spoke loudly of his approach but as she still didn't turn he broke the ice naturally. It was a rare charm his mother had assured him again and again that people would always be grateful of. "What will you do with all of it?" He asked.

"I'll get a boat away from here," She replied darkly and without hesitation.

"Oh yeah?" He sat next to her, feeling his heart slow a bit now that the conversation had been set, "I've never been anywhere else before." She whipped her head towards him in a way that sent her hair swirling and Luke stiff.

"You're kidding."

"What's wrong with here?" He said casually. His clear honest eyes always betrayed the fact that he was truly curious.

"It's not that it's wrong it's just so...remote." She dropped the money into a purse and gazed towards the ocean. "I want more."

"What's it like where you're from?"

"Even worse," She growled liquidly and the sound of the ocean remained their only company.

"It sounds nice." He announced.

"Did you hear what I just said?" She returned incredulously, her eyes on him were like fire.

"Oh right," he laughed easily, causing his cheeks to pinch slightly with his mirth, "but I like it here so a quiet tropical island sounds pretty good to me." Another more private thought was that any place that could produce people like Selena couldn't be that bad. After what seemed like minutes dripping painfully slow into an empty hourglass her passionate scrutiny ceased and she sniffed.

"Well it's obvious that you've never been there. You imagine what you see on postcards."

"Isn't it?" Remembering the very same thing sent from his uncle two years ago, he puzzled. Her cheeks had become a delightful rosy colour.

"Of course not!" She narrowed her eyes; an action that might have made others shrink away but Luke only found charming. It accentuated the fullness of her face with its high cheekbones and clear bronze skin.

"Okay," he agreed mildly. The sound of waves filled the air as they studied each other.

"Strange," she conceded, and he grinned and bore it.

When the time came to part he knew he'd visit the inn again. Her poison was far too addictive to be ignored. The next time he saw her he might say something else stupid, but that was just how he was. And in her presence the veil of acceptable social behaviour seemed practically invisible if not far less important. He would simply want to approach her and everything else would become blurred.

But as the cards were played it was to Owen that he owed his voice.

"Are you okay?" Came his tone as clear and as deep as a gong shattering its way through the spell. The stopper on Luke's words had already become far removed and he struggled not to tumble over them. Apparently, amid Owen's obvious yet well-meaning interruption and his own uncharacteristic jitters they had made quite a scene. They haze of bar music and smoky atmosphere seemed paused and even Selena held her attention on him like a spotlight.

"Luke? Is that true?"

In truth he could hardly remember what it was he had said, but in a rare moment of insight he understood that the light behind Selena's eyes was something like hope, irreverent to the ambience that held them both. For Selena too, the rest of the room had become unimportant.

"It's so true," he stood with legs that were suddenly at full strength and not jittery at all. "Selena, I think I love you."

Her face lit up like a sunrise and the uproar in the bar ebbed upon the edges of their consciousness in waves. She breathed quite calmly, and seemed to consider the outside of their bubble carefully before slamming the rest of the world shut for good.

"Me too," She answered like a bell in his heart, "me too."

The wolf-whistles and complaints from the bar's other nightly companions only reached his ears after he'd gathered her in his arms and stammered promises of the wedding, big and extravagant and all for her— she couldn't cook and he didn't care.

Outside the sea was crashing and as the wet tears of her joy soaked his collar he swore he'd cut down an entire forest to build her the palace she so deserved. And she, in turn, promised to stay in it.

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><p><em>AN: Here's a fun little project. I'm going to do all the rival couples (semi-) according to events first and then perhaps I will elaborate on the romantic development; like a missing scene later. If anyone has suggestions I will keep an open ear. This is meant to keep me writing in between taking on a highly strenuous Ouran Host Club project._


	2. Luna and Gill

_A/N: another rowdy couple... but personally I found this one easier to write. Perhaps I just need more practice from Luke's standpoint but the rival events for these two seemed to make better sense. _

_My secret desire is that if you read this you will hate Luna a little less._

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><p><em>GillLuna_

Luna was a flower by any standard. Her childlike face was moon-shaped and wonderfully spaced, so that her eyes shone reflectively as two big buttons over the apples of her cheeks and her hair framed the rest in great loops of pink. He neck was slim, her shoulders tiny, but where she required curves it wasn't to say that she was lacking, simply petite. She appreciated that this stature gave her an edge: a little doll needs cared for after all. She wasn't quiet with her demands and very rarely was she ever refused. She and her older sister were parentless, but that didn't mean that she had never been spoiled as a child.

It was thanks to this rather antiquated yet well-informed view of her own position that she decided he was a weed.

Thin and ungainly, boring and blonde, a bookworm and a tyrant: That was Gill, herby judged on a more unfortunate upbringing than her own.

As meets the eye he was well behaved, even a gentleman, his job at the Town Hall would suggest to those acquainted that he had a future in business, that he was sharp and well-grounded. Luna, of course, knew it to be a lie.

"Do you want me to take that to my father?"

Pompous, deceitful, two-faced, man-child.

"—it's very good you could do this errand on your own."

And as the old saying as it goes: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. When they crossed in the streets her nose would wrinkle as she pointed her tongue out at him profanely. In the Hall during whatever business it was a clash of wits— one she tired of quickly. It was not because he seemed so especially proficient at duelling insults covertly, certainly, it was only because she couldn't stand more than 5 short minutes in his detestable presence. Even this would not move him an inch.

"Luna," said her favourite bench under her favourite cherry tree in the whole of the town square. The sound of the voice sent prickles through her spine.

"What are you doing here!" she demanded.

"It's a nice day, I'm enjoying the view." He answered sedately, and when her knuckles bunched against her hips in distaste at his address his book nearly shut with a sigh. "Or at least I was."

Back-dropped by the clock tower and seascape with the trees exploding in white-pink blossoms in impending sunset the girl might normally appreciate her own moment of loveliness but so intent was she to find some clever word of condemnation that might finally make him react that she paid it no heed.

Gill had grown still, the pages of his book fluttering in protest inconsequentially where it bowed between his fingers. Luna tapped her foot anxiously, so disturbed by her lack of verbosity that her face was growing hot under his examination.

"S-stop staring so hard!" she managed at length. "You're putting me off!"

Now Gill's own cheeks were dashed with red but that didn't keep him from quirking an eyebrow defiantly, "Putting you off what exactly?" The petals drifted around them in a dance.

"w-weed!"

She could only run away. Her own stammer echoed in her head. Forced to surrender the battle and retreat even her ears were burning, but beneath all the contempt for the event was the clamour of her own heart. Gill, ungainly and thin, blonde and boring, a bookworm and a tyrant, had never looked so attractive. She consoled herself in her sister's lap until she was steady enough to eat cake. Candace had stroked her hair with a touch as light as feathers.

"...Will you tell me what happened?"

Luna would only pout between mouthfuls, "My heart's been stolen by a beast." Even the chaotic change at the mention of a man to her beloved and timid Candace could not rouse her spirits. She would have to prove herself wrong or forever linger in despair.

The next day was torturous, and the one after that, and that, until finally an entire week had passed. Gill at the Inn for a quiet lunch, Gill passing in the streets, Gill apprehending her bench, and Gill behind his desk and Hall; each instance still looked lovely to her, framed in a rosy pink mirage. It bemused and incensed her. She had clashed with Gill since her return to the Island, and known him even longer, how could she possibly be in love with him now? The time for action had come, just one word from his lips and she was certain she could return; to a time when her heart was hers and world might bow to her will.

She called to his house. The Mayor was thankfully upstairs, distracted, but a reassuring presence to a young lady in the dangerous depths of a man's territory at least. Gill was surprised and a bit prickled that she happened to catch him off guard at all let alone in his own home, and this gave her some small satisfaction. Talk was chilly at best, tea was prepared and served, and the reason for her visit would be required imminently. That was when she saw it.

"Oh," the sound elicited from her lips like a sorrowful breeze, the teacup clattering as she returned it to the table between them and made to retrieve the thing. In her palm all at once she was overcome with a heavy dark sadness, it washed over her in waves; the centrifugal point of it a deep pang in her chest. A moment passed while Gill was silent in his seat, confused, and she realized that this was what she needed to recover. This was the moment that would cure her.

"A blue feather," Luna began in a voice that surprised her, "Who were you planning to give this to hmm?" she turned with a swish, her dress whipping across her knees. "Akari, maybe? Little Gill's got a sweet spot for tomboys? Or maybe it's Ellie, she's a bit older but she's still pretty and she's probably the mothering type." She started to crack, "Well I can tell you one thing for sure... a weed like you would be so lucky..." Great rolling teardrops brimmed and began to fall.

Gill was no longer silent, he was out of his chair and next to her, so positively red in the face that she was sure she'd actually angered him and was about to with the rough edge of his tongue for the last time. Still her tears stubbornly fell as she wiped at them futilely with her bare wrists.

"Actually I- I was going- Luna, I meant to—" The redness in his face did not diminish. He clasped his hands over her shoulders, not thin and ungainly hands but a man's hands that were strong and warm. He waited for her to suck a breath in and really look at him and then he began afresh, clear as day, though still as nervous.

"You said you were of marriageable age yourself... So I... I was going to give it to you."

Luna was stunned. For the first time in her life she considered Gill from such close proximity and discovered that his eyes were the colour of flax seed; a blue that became so deep and beguiling that at times it almost appeared violet. His hair was golden even in the low-light and perfectly coifed so that when he brushed it out of his eyes it fell back in a calculated manner. From the days of their childhood he had grown up quite wonderfully while she had changed in only small ways. It was this that kept her from realizing it. What she felt for him was neither a plague nor a trick; she had always felt this way and never known how to exercise it. She was just a doll in need of caring, but if there was one she so thoroughly desired to recognize her it was the one who never did. And now she had his promise in her hands.

"I'll make you work," she said quietly and although his eyebrow twitched at this inopportune reply he nodded brusquely. "And I'll still get angry and probably be a pain..." he nodded again, this time softer. With the feather clutched in her fingers and her eyes shining dramatically, she stood as tall as she could. "But I will love you more than anyone ever has."

Gill's shoulder's relaxed and his expression was soothed at the very same time a thump from upstairs made them both jump. He wrapped his arms around her and she turned rosy where her cheek pressed to his chest where his quick and heavy heartbeat resounded like a drum. He breathed, "Thank God... You might've got a much better proposal in a week's time you know."

"I couldn't wait any longer," she said honestly, and the chains and locks she'd placed around the feeling were finally broken.


	3. Maya and Chase

_A/N: I know I go overboard with Chase. I love to love him. I love to hate him. I tend to write him so enigmatically that even I don't understand what he wants. And somehow it works. I will only say that this one is technically a bit of a mishmash of both ToT and AP scenes. It just kind of happened. Without further ado... please read and review... the longest one yet..._

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><p><em>ChaseMaya_

Another dessert, another rejection; it was like clockwork.

Maya was a morning person. She always woke up in the early hours with minimal effort, sometimes to the chagrin of her alarm clock as she tapped it quiet before it could even chime. In the mirror she would tie her hair neatly into two matching plaits that bobbed and check that she hadn't tucked her skirt into her underwear before she was out the door and heading for work. Her grandmother always served breakfast at nine when most of the inn guests would join them, and after that she and her mother would turn down the beds. Her life was largely routine, and on the days that she was free from responsibility she wouldn't quite know where to place herself. Despite this she only knew love for her hometown. Without its familiar streets and shores and the residents of her hundred-year-old family home she would truly be at a loss. She was an Island Daughter, and firmly bound to her roots.

So it was only natural that she ought to marry and inherit the ancestral business. And it seemed only natural to choose a suitor that fit within the realms of her tiny home-bound world. So when an orphan boy of the same age and stature rode in on a shabby looking transatlantic ship and begged to study under her Grandmother she naturally fell in love.

However the boy Chase was less than willing.

From the time they were eleven to the day she turned fifteen he was cold and reserved. In those early years he lived in the inn. His miniscule wages paid his keep and her mother cared for him as if she was one of her own, however distantly. Her father kept a keen eye on him for hope that he might one day fulfil her wish and succeed the Inn at her side. But they were still so young. Chase had never known what it was to have others plan for him.

"Hello," she would smile full of sunshine. He never returned the gesture. "Chase, are you baking today?"

"Tarts," he would reply. Or on other days simply "cake" and "pastry."

"Can I have some?" she would stand on tiptoe to see him work. Yolanda would tap her head with whatever utensil was in use and correct her.

"It's 'may I' and the answer is no. It's for the guests."

Chase worked like he was in a daze, every measurement was precise but nothing ever seemed difficult to him. She'd heard from her grandmother than he'd worked in a kitchen before but she didn't understand his passion for it when it never looked like he had any fun. When she was cleaning or serving she skipped and sang or sometimes even acted out small snippets of some drama and television program she'd seen the night before. She was always cheerful. Still her love never waned; she simply put more effort in one day or left him alone the next. It was when she turned fifteen that she truly had to put her dream to rest.

She was still recovering from the Harvest Festival and the resultant full-belly-aches that plagued her when he approached.

"Maya," He caught up to her on her way home. She couldn't remember a time when he called her name instead of '_you'_ or '_girl_.' The streetlights flickered into life dimly and a cool autumn breeze ruffled them both. He was still skinny and he rubbed his hands over his arms to keep warm. "Present." He said, handing her a hastily wrapped wedge of cake.

She practically burst into tears as she flung her arms around him, "Oh Chase! Thankyouthankyouthankyou—!"

Mindful of squishing her treat she didn't resist as he gently detracted himself from her grip. "This will be the last time, so-"

The brilliant autumn night seemed to freeze over. "What?"

He looked uncomfortable. Crunchy brown leaves scattered and rolled past their feet as she waited long long seconds for his response. "...You always wanted to try my baking, so I thought"

"Chase, are you leaving?" she interrupted meekly.

"After my shift is finished."

Her arms fell slack at her sides, the precious dessert still tight in her hand. She saw the island and she saw Chase, now two entirely separate entities and drifting further apart. He fidgeted while the ocean stood still and finally he left.

"Happy Birthday, Maya."

She ate Chase's cake even though her heart made her stomach feel tiny and vacant, as though any introduction to food would be cruelly resisted. She couldn't taste it for the salty tears and sniffles that followed but she knew it was the best cake she would ever eat and that from then on nothing would compare. Chase left the Inn the way he came, by gloomy night and desolate boat, and the entire family felt the space he used to feel go hollow. But eventually the sunshine returned, and Maya returned with it. The only dark times that resided were the birthdays between six and nine teen.

No more gentleman callers took her interest but there were very few of them at the best of times between travelers and old sailors. Even through her ripe teenage years Maya held fast to her first kiss. When Kathy whispered in secret behind her serving trays that Owen had taken hers she didn't feel enviousness only the mild ache of nostalgia; Owen was Kathy's first love, and Chase was hers. Kathy's was rewarded while Maya's never even began. She didn't let it show, one of her best charms was keeping the sunshine up and the dark nights inside. She giggled profusely and teased Kathy until she went uncharacteristically pink and began to chase the other girl through the labyrinth of tables.

Jake and Coleen watched her ease through the long summer months as she always had. Autumn came again, followed by winter. Their enormous love for their only child acted as a cushion to the heartache they felt when she turned a blind eye to other men. Never testing her curfew or denying a request to help. She was still young and childlike in her manner yet she had done so much growing up so long ago. They remember when they were new and falling in love, and they hope that she might mend soon while her best years are still ahead of her.

Neither could contain their shock when a certain orphan arrived back on their doorstep. And when Maya recognized the back of his head from the doorway still tolling and clattering shut from her entrance she nearly dropped her shopping bags to the floor. Instead a high-pitched song of clumsiness, weird even by her standards, strung out for the entirety of a forward-hopping dance as she struggled to keep her hold on it all. In the end Chase caught the milk from spilling into oblivion and tossed it back into the sack without so much as blinking.

"Hey Maya," He greeted. A smile like something out of a toothpaste commercial spread his lips effortlessly. It lit up his face and nearly made her stumble anew.

"Ch-Ch-Chase? Is it really you?" Her mother fluttered in the background looking like she might very well faint from the whole experience and wishing with all her might that she could've pre-empted her daughters return until things were settled.

"It's really me," he laughed, "I didn't think you were dizzy enough to forget my face."

"but..well…" she struggled, and Jake sent her a look of reassurance. "Just look at you!" His snort this time was less than mirthful and more like a genteel filling for companionable silence.

"You've changed too Maya."

As expected from all the family members, the moment Chase accepted Yolanda's cross to bear he had returned to his former position of assistant. It was still a profession made up almost entirely of flunky tasks but given time the chef had promised that should he be able to prove himself he'd never wash another dish again.

He wouldn't stay at the Inn. This time he'd already seen to his own living arrangements; a little house by the lake. Run down and in need of some TLC but only a hop skip and a jump from work. Chase living less than a mile away… Maya could scarcely still her madly beating heart. He was changed; something cast dark shadows over his newly-angular face and put a sense of falseness into every smile, but she loved him nonetheless. Her prince had returned.

So the routine began anew.

"Chase, are you cooking today?"

"Mm? Yeah, I guess." Noncommittal but certainly more than a one word answer.

"Can I try some?" a thump. "_May_ I try some?" Yolanda allowed him quite a bit more freedom now he was an adult.

"Only if there's enough."

The taste of his cooking was the best. Sometimes it was unrefined, sometimes downright messy, but what she really loved was what he put into it. His passion for the culinary art had become so vivid. Where one a solemn boy would work through the motions with a straight face and calculating eyes now a charismatic young man created something with all the flourish of a painter. She didn't mind that he was occasionally false because when he entered the kitchen he was as honest as the sky was blue.

She couldn't stand to lose him again and she knew it was time to gather her confidence. This first instance it rolled past her lips in a clumsy tumble, something her grandmother liked to term a '_wheaterism_.'

"Chase, I caked you a bake." She wobbled dramatically on one toe with a cry, "Iiieee mean I baked you a cake!" One eye pinched shut in embarrassment but she stretched her offer forward anyway. The raucous laughter she had expected never came. It was much worse. His eyebrows quirked minutely and his thin lips pursed in distaste.

"That's a cake?"

"Please just try it." She pleaded, hoping that her hours of trial and preparation would pay off.

"I think it might be toxic." He commented evenly and she flinched like it was a physical blow. The long seconds as he studied her product with a thoughtful hand round his chin caused her knees to quake on tiptoes. Here she was, her prince at her attention and he was discounting her in new ways all too cruel. Even she had trouble coming back from it, but the next time she was even more steeled in her diligence.

"I've made you another cake!"

"I don't need it, I'm watching my weight." He slapped his own doughy project onto the countertop with finality. His waist was practically the same size as her own. It was unjust, but she endured it.

"This time it's chocolate… Do you like chocolate?"

"I don't actually care for sweet things in general."

Again and again, plate after plate, she was denied. Eventually she began to notice the slight edge that would sneak into his smile as he glanced her sidelong through the work day. Finally it was too much.

"Chase, you…you…absolute…utter….**meanie**!"

Coleen looked pale behind her desk, Jake looked up from his newspaper, and even Yolanda raised eyebrows from the kitchen. None of them had ever heard their well-behaved and sunshiny Maya ever protest like this. If Kathy had been present she might have even dropped her tray. Chase however let the smile grow.

Maya escaped with the faint traces of her pride.

"Sweetheart, can you open the door? Kathy's here to visit."

She threw a pillow at the entry and it drifted wide, "it's open."

"Wow," her friend remarked, "You've got it bad." Maya knew that the nod against one of her many stuffed animals that rested upon her bed was barely perceptible but Kathy would sense it regardless.

"Still," She felt the panda to her right lift away and the warmth of another person replace it, "you're not giving up are you? The Maya I know never gives up." A soft lightness slipped beneath her fingers. At first it felt like hair and Maya was in no small part confused, but finally she saw the intense blue colour and understood.

"Where did you..?"

"It's mine." Kathy admitted. "Owen gave it to me." Maya gaped.

"but I can't-!"

"Oh yes you can. And you will." She winked. "And I know something else too." Leaning close Maya could smell the delicate scent of her perfume and the sweet breath that tickled her neck nearly made her giggle. "He'll definitely say yes."

Kathy had definitely known magic that day. Maya made a new cake, without any special attention, and tucked the blue thing into her apron securely before walking to the Inn. It was evening, there were patrons, and he was working, but she'd never have a better instant. This was her Cinderella moment and the clock was ticking.

She cleared her throat. "Chase, I've made you a cake."

"Maya, I'm a bit busy at the moment."

"Chase," she said again, quite sternly, "I really want you to taste it."

He paused at the stove, "You really have poisoned it this time haven't you." Recalling her earlier outburst she supposed she deserved the comment but she didn't waste time worrying on it.

"If you won't eat my cake you at least have to take this!" She thrust the feather into his chest hard enough that he gave an inch. Her eyes were brimming with tears and her face burned with a vengeance but she could never be prepared for the reactions of this new Chase she didn't know.

"What….is this." He chuckled humourlessly. "I am _not_ going to take this."

The thin unbeautiful cry was finally torn from her. "But I- I've tried so hard!" She sobbed. "Can't you see that?"

First he set the feather down, and then he took the cake from her. "Yeah, I can see that." He work-dusty hands brushed the wetness from her cheeks, probably leaving marks he could tease her for later. "But Maya, it's not your place." Since he'd come back she'd heard her name from his mouth so many times and yet it still caused her to stir. He delved into the deep pockets of his own smock and produced another exact shade of cobalt feather.

"It's a man's burden to do the proposing."

Even in the happiest moment of her life he still couldn't recite it properly. She wailed defiantly until he covered her in his embrace.

"You're making a scene…" he whispered tenderly.

"It's not a burden!" she managed to pipe between breaths; it was a wonder he understood her. "Does this mean that I can try your cooking every day?"

"Yeah… I guess it does."

On tiptoes once more she tossed her arms around his neck and squeezed tight. His height left her feet dangling but his strong hold around her waist made her weightless. After eight years she could finally say exactly what was always known in her heart.

"CHASE, I LOVE YOU!"


	4. Toby and Renee

_Toby/Renee_

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><p><em>Drifting, drifting, drifting... Into the sea and dreamless slumber.<em>

When he nodded off it was usually daylight and when he came to the sea had already become a vast mirror to the heavens; dark and star-speckled. It was only when the fishing was fruitful did he become a flurry of movement; a flash of hands suddenly twisting, pulling, liberating a great flapping black bass from the waters in one backwards sweep. His Uncle remarked- in that noncommittal way that an uncle with a chip on his shoulder but lacking any parental responsibilities can- that if he wasn't careful people would pass him by just as he passed by the world. The undertones of his worry were apparent and Toby knew; to others his existence was transparent; as water, as the ocean, as the tide.

He wasn't adverse to people believing what they observed. It was only human to perceive what was logical. He was polite and well liked enough, and his attendance to public events was always noted, but through the years he could understand that the villagers didn't quite know how to place him. Alone, but never needing. A hobbyist, but never hungry. Awake, but always dreaming. After a time they satisfied themselves thinking he was simply something of an enigma, the kind that only the subtle nature of island-life could sustain.

Toby himself considered none of this. He was a fisherman and life as his lived it was enriched with experience. At eight he owned his first fully operational spinning rod, at sixteen he finished education, sixteen-and-a-half his Uncle delivered the call of the sea, and by seventeen he had sailed away from the mainland forever and taken ownership of the roof over his head. Ozzie helped him clear out the damp of disuse and lay the new tatami.

He cast his line in the early morning sun of the next day under a flower peppered sky and perfunctorily began to nap. When he woke dazedly a girl next to him had already tried three different kinds of bait.

"Sorry, I hope I didn't wake you."

She had a clear voice, like a bell, polite but not at all timorous. She was pretty but in an understated sort of way; all soft colors and gentle curves. He liked the way she would tuck strands of her hair behind her ear as she became thoughtful upon her line.

"Are you new to town? There's not much biting today, but at least the weather is nice."

Deftly extricating himself from the grass he'd bedded in, Toby looked to his float where it followed the flow of the river naturally and bobbed without dissent. The sun was now in high afternoon and he felt the faintest prickle of a burn tickle across his skin where the shade had abandoned him.

"You don't talk much, but that's okay." She smiled and a curious light fluttering fit itself within the small confines of his stomach. "It's a good place to live."

"I think so too." He agreed somewhat lackadaisically, if only to show this charming girl in front of him that he could speak. "I already feel at home."

She tittered amicably and the hair behind her ear became un-tucked, "but the fishing could be better, right?"

"We just need to get used to the water," he replied, drawing from his float experimentally so that the current gave around it. "But I don't need to catch anything to enjoy it." The girl studied him with doe-brown eyes, her lips parted minutely, until satisfied conclusion seemed to grow and spread across her features. The smile returned.

"I'm Renee." She held out her hand. It was dainty but callused and offered as a man might. And relieving himself of traditional concerns Toby shook it.

"It's nice to meet you."

Renee was a constant. Although her work was plentiful and she wasn't oft to stray from her farm their arrangements to fish were persistently clockwork. Perhaps he'd take too long walking back from town and she'd have already cast her line, or she'd have fussed over one of the new calves before setting off but they always met at the same place on the same day of every week. It hadn't been a spoken contract, and the second time had been quite honestly a coincidence, but after that there was like a natural gravitation. He knew she would be there and so he went.

"You're not very good at this." He tried one afternoon and immediately regret his impertinence. She merely smiled, a slight more mischievous at the corners than usual, and the valley of a dimple winking into existence when he looked carefully.

"I don't need to catch anything to enjoy fishing." She laughed, and once her echo had registered he joined in; a rather lilting baritone in contrast with her bell-ringing tremor. His line gave a tug.

"I could teach you?" He offered. He stood before she could answer in order to extend his spinning hand to her. Renee took it and he pulled her up until they stood closely and she took the reel. The fish on the bait tugged more fiercely, the hook certainly caught now, and the sensation ran through their shared grip on the rod. Toby understood that this was the moment the teacher was meant to offer the student some helpful direction but Renee had already sensed exactly what he expected. He drew up and she began spinning. Without much more fight the catch came free in a valiant splash. As it appeared the eel showered them both, and surprise at its black wriggling form spread through Renee and stole her footing on the slippery bank. Rod and dangling fish discarded, Toby cradled her fall and they landed in a gentle heap.

"Are you alright?" He spoke hurriedly. From her place in his lap her breathing regulated and she turned to look at him.

"That's the first time I've ever done it." She sighed, "That's the first time I've caught something."

Toby couldn't help but recall the shock of his first time, and chuckle. Did he look as sheet-white then? "How was it?"

"Scary." She heaved pointedly, and moved her weight from him to re-smooth her dress. "But also really exhilarating."

Renee kept fishing. Sometimes on her own, and always at the usual time. She even upgraded her rod to something more versatile. Occasionally when he was out dozing in the shade upon his return he would find a basket of eggs or a short note: _Stopped by to check on you, are you ever at home?_ _~Renee. _

She stood out amongst the other villagers. Not only because she would turn to find him and wave from amid a crowded festival but because she seemed to be shining the most above all others. At times his heart would squeeze and their laughter would be framed by roses, a gentle heat springing to life in his cheeks as he watched her smile and contemplated the meaning. This was Renee, his dearest friend, she wasn't going anywhere and yet he felt so fearful that she might desert him. Suddenly his transparency seemed a placid loneliness.

New residents came, some more friendly than others. Renee befriended the boy and he the girl. Their meetings were forever unfailing but there was a new dynamic. Sometimes the others would frequent and cast a line beside them. Akari seemed blissfully unaware of his unease and was therefore unthreatening but the boy was keener: he invited Renee away.

"You're very good at this now." Toby began with a compliment towards her bucket. "Do you ever want more?"

"Sometimes I throw them back." She smiled. "It's better sport that way."

He cleared his throat, but it was lost to the wind so she didn't sense his nervousness. "I sometimes angle out at the pier. I wonder if you might want to try that..."

"Deep-sea fishing—like tuna?" She turned those clear eyes on him like a sunbeam and he suddenly wished for more shade. "Well..." she mused playfully, "only if you'll come to my farm too- it's a trade." He'd never been anywhere near livestock, he could even hazard a guess at what to expect, but he agreed to it immediately. Given their fierce shared interest in fishing he could only imagine he'd like the other parts of Renee too. He couldn't quite put his finger on why he waited so long to finally learn them.

The farm was much more peaceful than Akari and Yuuki would have had him believe. When they talked about their animals it was always a flurry of rushed gestures and business terms so that Toby would long for the relaxed boughs of the willow trees near the lake. Renee's familial land was a vast expanse of green and tranquillity. The cattle grazed, the barman's daughter rode distantly, and Renee's personal favourites, the chickens, pecked and strut casually as the young ones slept under the warm bathing light inside. Renee took his hand and led him to the ewes. Today they were shearing the wool.

"It's okay, they're quite used to this." She motioned with her clippers, grabbing a fistful of the fluffy whiteness by example and cutting it away. "See?" The sheep bleated affectionately.

Toby wobbled, erred as a fisherman, and cut too close. Pink patches of fair skin showed through. The wool drifted to the ground gravely. "Sorry..." he stroked the lamb's ears, feeling truly rueful for it.

"It's hard to tease you when you look so upset already." Renee patted the hand that held the shears. "It grows back, Toby. You can brush instead."

The day drifted out behind the trees in gauzy dissipating warmth. The flock were clipped, the chickens were fed, and now Renee led him around the boundaries of the field as night fell. The ocean roared below the cliff-edge and her hand fit comfortably inside his to lead him past unknown obscurity.

"I used to run all the way out here when I was a kid." Their boots crunched over broken leaves. "I'd be tired and get in trouble but the world just felt so big, you know? I wanted to be a part of it." A little sadness touched her words then but she didn't linger on it so he didn't ask. They stepped in front of the infinite seascape where the breeze from the rest of the world tousled their clothing.

"See?" She spread her arms wide, chasing the faint echo of her own voice. "It's huge!"

It was then that Toby kissed her; a short-lived and modest contact to the top of her head. She had grown up in a world so immense while he'd dreamt of finding that little place to call home; somehow it seemed fitting that they meet in the middle. Renee turned her chin up to look at him and pulled him by the collar, their lips bumping together in careful tenderness.

He walked her to the door with new meaning to their held hands. He'd met her parents before but now he felt the overwhelming need to either slink away without a sound or introduce himself anew and with dignity. Renee decided for him and moved with a whisper.

"See you tomorrow." She opened the door just a crack and slipped inside, "at the pier," she promised. He nodded his agreement to the dark wooden entry that closed to hide her and all her mysteries. As he traversed the winding path back to his humble two-room house he wondered if the hungry curiosity would ever be satisfied.

Yuuki was the same way.

It didn't wound him to learn that the young farmer had also visited the ranch, but it did stir his urgency when all the rest of the lazy isle and its shady recesses had failed to. Renee was warm and kind, but also fragile. He wasn't intimidated by Yuuki though he was apprehensive. He might not understand her vulnerability.

They passed each other at the ranch gates, the farmer going as he arrived, and the sharp glint of keen perception in his eyes as they nodded their hellos did not escape him; Toby wondered briefly what Yuuki might know that he in turn did not understand.

Renee was outside, tending to the flock again. She seemed to light up when she saw him. She waved broadly against the sky. He shyly approached the animals as he was becoming accustomed to and she always seemed to have a brush handy for him. The smallest of the lambs butted its head against his knees, forcing it way through the other larger ones to meet him. Gladness blossomed in his chest.

"See Toby? How good you are at this now? They can sense your gentle nature." Even the goats had gathered for a grooming. Renee would laugh and talk to them as though they might reciprocate in the same way. Watching, Toby felt a spark like a static shock tickle through his firmly planted soles but he continued his work. Afterwards the grass comforted their aching feet and the welcome breeze off the fields cooled their veins. Renee had undone an extra button and was fanning herself with one hand.

"Thanks for helping out again."

"I like to help," he replied humbly.

She giggled musically "You're kind of like a dad this way."

"Hm," He wasn't sure it was a compliment or not but his pulse quickened nonetheless.

"For a long time my dad wouldn't let me do even this," she tucked her hair and continued "I was pretty week when I was a kid and he didn't want me straining myself."

He waited for her to say more but she was looking at the windmill distantly. The day was ebbing and it would be a perfect sunset to doze near the lake, but Renee's profile was more alluring than his ordinary desires. "And now?" He asked.

"Now I'm much better," she laughed and her shoulders shrugged noncommittally. The tickle that struck him earlier returned. "But it's even better when I have help."

"I…want always to help."

"Of course."

"I think we should get married."

"Okay."

A pause.

"Wait. What?"

Renee's eyes finally fixed on him with intense clarity. Thanks to those eyes all his nervousness was allowed to give way to a kind of serenity; the tickle subsided. The sudden impulse didn't seem so rash anymore. He understood quite certainly.

"You...want to marry me?"

He nodded, but realized he needed to say more. "I want to be here for you every day. I want to be someone you can depend on, to take care of you. I want to be your family." He spoke straightforwardly, without doubt, to her and to the vast open sky that held them. Renee, who was usually so composed, so prettily upright if not somewhat outspoken in her kindness, turned a fascinating shade of pink.

"I would be honoured."

Toby was born a mainlander with the spirit of a fisherman. He took responsibility for his own disposition and left his parental home to find a new place to belong. He was still and placid as the cloud-covered mountains, but as transparent as the sea. Because of this some people would pass him by, but he didn't pay it any mind. As long as he could serve as a steady reflection to this shining woman who'd offered him her hand he would live forever gracious of his blessings.

That evening under the same brilliant heaven was the most perfect he had ever known.

* * *

><p>AN:_ another incredibly cheesy end-line completely NAILED. **you're welcome.**_

_This couple was the most problem-free imaginable. I added Akari and Yuuki to the fray not only because I wanted to establish their presence in this somewhat canon series but because it added a little intrigue. I don't think Toby entirely needed the push to propose but it felt more interesting to do it this way; otherwise I may as well have written "they met, they kissed, they married." Poor Yuuki never stood a chance! Yes, I think these two are made for each other somehow. I wanted it to be the natural romance that needs no angst, but I didn't want to bore you. Let me know how I did :)_


	5. Candace and Julius

Candace/Julius

_A/N: I'm integrating some of the ToT rival events again...and I have absolutely no right to write about bullying or discrimination in any shape or form, but I hope that when I touch on it briefly that it's inoffensive and realistic. _

_Prepare for overuse of ellipses. _

* * *

><p>She couldn't remember when exactly, she'd always been a mutely coloured person, but some point deeply waylaid in the wispy fondness of childhood she seemed to recall another girl; vivacious and bright like a star.<p>

As the eldest, Candace had always placed ingenuous blame upon herself at every moment of Luna's suffering. Since their parents died and their beloved elderly Aunt Shelly had taken them in, her maternal instincts had flared to life. Luna was a comet-tail; eating sweets, refusing to brush her teeth, scraping knees, demanding that she kiss them better. Candace would coo and soothe her sibling, curled up in her child-sized lap like a little pink kitten with her hair loose and her tears abundant. Shelly was compassionate and parental to them both but she knew she could never crossover the tightly-constructed knots of their sisterhood. Subsequently, when Luna in turn became Candace's forthright and imperious guardian it was a great surprise...and yet it was not.

"What did you say to her?" The smaller of the siblings railed. The offending island-child gaped.

"L-Luna...please," Under stress she would tremble, sometimes faltering awkwardly over her careful words; she hated that part of herself. Luna, no matter how short or skinny, would jab a finger at any opposition and they would eventually bow. Some lasted longer than others, but the charm had yet to fail.

"No Candace, he's going to apologize. It's not right," the younger sister huffed.

"_I really don't—" "I didn't mean_—"Candace and the boy warbled at the same stroke. The queen dropped her sceptre ruthlessly, and silenced them both. In tiny furtive gestures the boy began to apologize. Candace, however, fled.

Back at the shop it wasn't mentioned. It became known that this was their "modus operandi." In the end Candace was humbled, Luna was triumphant, and whatever opposing factor that had rallied against them had learned its lesson. They finished growing this way; Shelly gave a diminutive shake of her shawl-wrapped head and continued as she always had, teaching the young girls the womanly art of dress-making and believing they would mature as nature intended. They excelled in completely opposite ways.

They were dissimilar, but they were also yin and yang, and Candace expected to happily grow old as such. Luna had as well until, forever barrelling forward, she ran head-first into unexpected and uncontainable love with the Mayor's son Gill.

In the beginning they were shy and aware of the apt newness to their relationship, then they became outspoken to the point that they would break away in opposite directions. Both were business-minded and worked long hours, so in spite of the new arrangement, it seemed like nothing would change. The engagement was held a shining distant promise, and Candace was ashamed to find herself breathing a sigh of relief.

Then, as though cued by whatever powers that were perhaps even the patron Harvest Goddess herself, enter Julius.

She had been tending to the families laundry astutely- fetching from the washing line, folding and refolding, and finally storing it away- when the ruckus in the storefront reached her ears. It was unusual: the island women were much more soft spoken in their shopping manner, despite their affection for gossip. She didn't mind it. Perhaps there would be a wedding soon. How she loved embroidering the finer details into the dress. She'd learned many techniques. Adding wide swatches of lace and layers of tulle until the bride became a princess. Her groom would admire her longingly across the aisle and ask himself quite candidly: how did he become so lucky?

A call from the kitchen broke her reverie; like little gauzy filmstrips dropping away around her shoulders until she was back in the linen closet filing their summer bedding away for the year.

"Huh-h?" she started. Luna called again, the trailing singsong of her voice not the least bit impatient when it came to her beloved sibling. "Coming!" she returned, somewhat smothered by the thickness of the storage, and shuffled out to meet her.

"Can you take some measurements quickly? Aunt Shelly needs to collect some new fabrics from the general store and I need to run the till. He's feeling rather urgently about this..." Luna trailed off; gesturing to their customer passed the entryway with forced serenity.

A voice that was high yet velvety drifted within earshot, "It is urgent! It's the autumn trend and the leaves have nearly fallen!"

The sisters moved dedicatedly past the vaguely decorated counter, Candace already pulling her measuring tape to the ready from a pocket of her apron and Luna gritting her teeth.

"If you could just step this way..." She motioned, out of the line of the few other waiting customers, to a stepping stool. The man did not do as he was asked, instead he gasped animatedly like some terrible actor.

"Candace~!"

Luna stiffened visibly and the sister in question blinked large luminous eyes, "I-I'm sorry?"

"No you probably wouldn't remember me...I've changed so much!" The man wore ruffled sleeves which gave a cheerful swish as, seemingly thoughtful, he flicked his wrist past his cheek. His dark eyes with their painted lids fixed on her intensely. "It's Julius, we used to go to the island school together."

Candace could not help but give a start and Luna actually sprang the cash register open during her pronounced 'Eh?' of surprise.

"Well..." Julius began, looking pleased with the reaction he'd received if not vividly understanding. "It's true that I have become very beautiful...but so have you," The hand that was still poised at the ready with measuring tape was taken gently between his well-manicured ones. "Candace."

Immediately his touch became red-hot to the point that she worried she might faint from the waves of heat passing over her vision. She wanted to pull away but simply couldn't; those dazzling eyes were a gravitational force all on their own. He simpered, and her lips opened and closed around half-words like some dazed fish, the most sense made with a exasperatingly helpless, "I...umm...err." He looked like he might kiss her; on the top of her wrist she hoped vigorously, trying to shy away in any shape or form. The rest of the crowd seemed to be staring and still she could not move.

"...Julius!" Came the voice of the queen; something of her knight, her ever constant watchdog. But now she was prowling like some great cat, circling in on her quarry, the fire behind her gaze was positively predatory. "I remember you alright."

"-And little Luna too, I hardly recognized you," Julius proclaimed affectionately only to be ignored.

"_Little_ Juli..." Luna continued with arms crossed looking right up into his face. "Having your hair pulled and your dolls stolen hasn't changed you at all." The brief surprise on his face became dark like a curtain had fallen. "You're still just as gaudy. I'm amazed I didn't know you the moment you walked in."

Julius still held her hand as though it was precious, but the feeling of it had become thin and cold. Candace still frozen in her trepidation saw Luna pressing another victim beyond stipulation and could do nothing. Her heart had become a wild fluttering beast inside an enormous cage.

Julius began anew with a strained laugh and Candace felt a thrill of hope emerge but Luna only shot it down when she interrupted.

"In spite of all that you'd think that you might have gone soft, but you were equally as cruel-

-to Candace."

The pull of her name was almost too much; Candace finally tore her hand away and stared up at Julius like some startled animal. Luna was right: it was a surprise they hadn't recognized him. Even with the chiselled angles of his jaw and cheekbones, the masculine growth to his graceful limbs, and the obvious coloring in his hair the overall sense of _Juli_ was present in every facet. She had known him and she had feared him. She'd hide under a heavy cloak of dread during recess should they meet, the moment Luna, distracted, might leave her side. Unfailing he would find some opportunity to prod her.

Even as full consenting adults the formula held power: Julius floundered for something to say and Luna looking smug stood the victor. The only thing left was to run.

"Candac- Wait!" he cried.

She flew from the room, and the house, and finally the street. She was puffing for breath once she reached the chapel. Inside it was empty but for the filtered light through the stained-glass. She sat in their pew three rows from the back and dropped her head into her hands.

That night at dinner Luna did not follow the rules.

"Julius still wants his jacket tailored." Candace sputtered on her drink. "I can do it if you think it'll be too much for you."

Shelly tutted, "Now, Candace is a professional. I'm sure something as old as this wouldn't keep her from doing her job."

"But Auntie," Luna urged and Shelly waved her off.

"What do you think?"

Candace gave pause. She was ashamed at her reversion to adolescence earlier and eager to find her way back out. Although the memories of Julius' teasing did little for her delicate nerves the pride she took in her vocation was a little bit stronger.

"I'll do it." She nodded. Julius had exploited her for her fragility as a child, she wanted to prove that he couldn't do the same again; to her sister, and to herself. "But Luna shouldn't pick on him anymore..."

"—what?"

A shake of her head, resolute if not a little bit feeble, "It... makes you no better than the other kids back then..."

Luna looked suitably admonished. Shelly smiled. "Anyone want cake?"

Julius' house was remarkably large. Past the humble slate paintwork he'd gone so far as to plant flowers of various colors in the window pots and arrange a sitting area complete with parasol in the back garden. Without realizing, her pulse had already settled a beat. She boldly rang the bell.

In a manner quite like a frog attempting to catch flies he gaped at her while his lips tried to form sentences.

"I've...come for your measurements."

"Ah...Oh! Please...come in."

Within was much more decorated; bright paintings hung from the walls, wide splashes of fabric covered the furniture, and in the corner a dummy stood with his latest project stuck fast with needles and pins. She remembered the Juli from her childhood as a desolate boy; made ashamed of his preference to clothing and perfumes over a sandpit full of trucks. Enviousness blossomed.

"Please, stand here..." she directed solemnly, hoping to finish quickly and leave this charming place. He did as he was asked, still looking quite troubled as she threaded her tape under his arm.

"Candace,"

"I'm...concentrating..."

"But I want you to know that I'm sorry for before."

"...It was a long time ago."

"Not just that," He swallowed sharply as she pulled the tape taught across his shoulders; the closeness leaving the tension between them as a palpable heat. "But boys usually act that way to the girls...that they like."

Candace had a good memory for numbers, but she was jotting the measures down as she went to make certain there was as little mistake as possible. Her fingers paused their fervent scribbling.

"...This should be enough for now. Luna has the patterns so... we'll call for the fitting..."

"Won't you stay for lunch?"

"_Juli_...us," she corrected, he had grabbed her hand again and now her heart hammered noisily. She had wanted to escape him and consider his words but it seemed she didn't have the time. "We were...just children then..."

"But I haven't changed," he pressed. The intensity of his gaze was once again winning her over. Her lips were moving but nothing came out.

He whirled away suddenly.

"I get it."

"Ah..."

"It's because I'm too _**short**_!"

The room was silent.

"I know you deserve someone much more manly and tough, someone who can protect you, but I just couldn't help myself! After all these years, and you're even more stunning than before... Aahhn! It couldn't be worse—"

Julius was like an artist on a stage. His wrist touched his forehead and his words came thick and fast, but his expression was truly one of anguish. Candace could hardly inhale for the overwhelming amount of information he was leaving her to process. As he persisted, she fell prey to fits of breathy giggles.

"Well... I suppose I prefer you laughing to shying away." He flipped his hair until a large golden ring in his ear became visible and dazzling against the warm shade of his cheek.

"I'm sorry...it's too much." She smiled. "I don't know what to say now."

He sighed, "It's enough for today. I know I have a lot to make up for first."

Candace, still quite speechless, nodded demurely as a substitute for any further discussion. Although she denied his insistence to walk her back he still saw her to the door like a gentleman. As he waved her off he seemed to have recovered; a genial wink fluttered his generous lashes and puckered his lips. He was a sight, something like an over-polished model from one of those mainland fashion magazines, but she doubted it was that that made her heart race this time.

Julius' orders became the tailor's biggest source of profit for the fall. They often sold overseas, and traded the wool and thread they purchased from the farms, but individual's custom orders was where they formed the chain-links of the business. A friend told a friend who told another friend. And Julius had pattern after pattern appearing in sketchbooks or magazines or dreams that he wanted to complete and share with the population. He did some of the work himself- salaried employees on the island were still rather modest people - and called Candace to fill the rest. Luna's hot little hand on the telephone was always a telltale sign that busy days were ahead.

Luna could tell. Her heady daydreams were often interrupted by her sister's call, or the occasional bump from her shoulder.

"You like him don't you?" She harrumphed one day, without the slightest hint of celebration.

"I-I...I don't." Candace dithered.

"I've never seen you like this. And it's only been since _**he**_ came along." She hoped that intensifying her concentration might fend Luna off but her sister only clasped her hands gently pulling her away from her work. "There are other guys that will treasure you, Candace."

For one sparkling moment Candace enjoyed an astonishing clarity. Luna's insistent blue eyes had always looked past her outer shell of dowdy quietude and to see her true self inside. It was part of what kept them close; a deep understanding of all that was good and bad about each other, and the willingness to accept it. Despite their history, she had an irresistible hunch that Julius was alike. He could polish his outer appearance to a fine gloss, he could decorate it with feathers and jewels and gold, he could parade himself like he didn't have a care in the world and she would still know him; a frightened little boy who only wanted approval for who he was.

"He's...special." She divulged at length. Luna sagged and finally released a heavy sigh.

"Well, I guess he's grown some pretty powerful pheromones at least... Jeez Candace, you're taste is terrible. All this time and the one you were holding out for was _Juli_ of all people."

Candace smiled secretively, a warm glow reaching her cheeks as the realization set it. "I suppose so."

"Well I'm not helping, this one is all you."

"Of course," She hugged her pouting sister. Luna's platform-heels made up for some of her lacking height but like this Candace could remember what it was like to be the eldest. It gave her courage, made her brave, but above all she hoped that in moving forward Luna might be able to do the same. It had been a long month since she'd last seen Gill.

"I'll miss you Candace." Rosy hair ruffled cutely as she nuzzled her nose into her sibling's warmth. She protested and Luna squeezed.

"Don't be silly, I'm not going anywhere."

"But you are." She heaved, pushing Candace toward the door.

It was completely unlike her, usually she would meander and reflect and shy away until something slowly unravelled of its own accord, but Luna had waved her on and she was running again. This time not away, but rather forward and on and on until Julius's well-memorized door bordered by its brightly colored yet quaint flowerpots loomed in front of her grandly. Her fingers clenched into a quivering fist to knock at the very moment it swung open and caused her to leap aside. Julius' exclaimed his surprise in a high tenor that was lost for his usual grace and collection.

"I-I'm sorry!" She bowed deeply, averting her face which had immediately gone hot.

"Candace?" He gave a sharp wince. "W-what brings you here? Please, come in."

Something in his voice made her start; she straightened and searched his expression and welcoming arms for a sign. Something wasn't right.

"Juli-?" she started, his nickname unintentional, but before she could finish his face had become grave and he tipped toward her in a great effort to right himself. She caught him on her shoulder, a shock that allowed him enough momentum to even out his weight distribution without toppling them both. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry..."he laughed without mirth, "You've come all the way to see me as well." Together they entered the house and arranged him on a chair. Without asking she immediately filled his kettle and set it to boil; a common start in first aid, but also a prerequisite if she was going to make tea to calm them both. She hurried back to his side.

"What's happened?"

"This is a terrible start to winning you over..." She pressed him with a look, somewhat diminished by the redness in her cheeks. He sighed in defeat. "It's my ankle. I think I've sprained it."

"You should have said," she murmured.

"I was on the way to the clinic just now."

Candace moved to the injured foot and spoke softly, "Let me wrap it for you."

The tea steamed gaily in discarded mugs. Outside the afternoon waned prettily from behind boldly printed curtains. She lifted the slimness of his leg and coiled torn strips of spare fabric tenderly. She could feel his breath on the back of her hair and his pulse through the angry bruise that had began to develop. Silence reigned like snowfall, neither one willing to drop any careless words that might break the spell. When she finally finished her handiwork off with a tidy knot and smiled her victory his fingers slipped under hers like liquid, pulling her to face him.

"Even better than the doctor," He simpered, "Thank you."

"Y-you should just say next time..." she stuttered in reply, feeling incredibly conscious of their proximity.

"Next time..?" He solicited and she gasped, feeling some personal secret being spirited away before she could help it. "You'll be there for me next time?"

She swallowed thinking of Luna and the heroic square of her shoulders when she was sizing something up. "You...probably deserve someone prettier...or smarter..." His eyes were round like the boy child of her memories she'd never quite managed to forget. Her heart thundered like something untamed but she finally managed to conquer that maddening stammer. His grip tightened. "But I'll be here if you want me."

He sighed a great relief, sincerely and without any theatrics. "I want you. I've never wanted anyone else." His cheeks flamed, realizing how wilful he sounded, and she was a perfect reflection. His hands left her to disappear briefly deep into a hidden pocket amongst velvet and ruffles, when it revealed itself there was a bright shock of blue cupped inside.

"I was going to save this... I was going to wait until I had properly courted you, and talked to Shelly and Luna, and you'd forgiven me, but it seems I'll need a much grander expression to compete with you." His first unclenched and the blue thing was freed, it exuded a soft glow in the daylight; a feather in immaculate condition. All at once his injury made sense to a startling degree.

"I underestimated you Candace. I thought I should give you time and small favours and win your heart as any other man would, but in the end your bravery has made you even more radiant.

Please marry me. Make me the happiest man alive. I would like to stand at your side."

Candace struggled with her pounding heart, rebellious tears springing to her eyes, and didn't flinch away as he closed their distance. The feather pressed insistently into her palm while his eyes held her in a daze. At last their lips met in a breathless kiss that was soft and uncertain; silky tendrils of his hair tickled against her cheek. They parted with smiles.

"Yes," she whispered quietly. The hazy image of a boy shimmered and became this beautiful man. A man who was beautiful in his own right, dazzling with ornament, but more than anything shone from the inside outward.

"I would like to stand by you too."

* * *

><p>A<em>N: I have the feeling that perhaps Julius just wasn't _**cheesy**_ enough but then I wanted to make this about their uncomfortable childhoods and there wasn't a lot of room for that. If this could be longer (heaven forbid) then I might've wrote the scenes in where they were working together and he was being particularly FABULOUS, and Candace awkward, but you'll just have to imagine it for now. I was a bit disappointed that their Rival Scenes in AP weren't as reflective of their history as ToT, both moved really quick which I think gives them that sweet irresistible opposites-attract feeling but with the addition of their individual traumas we get a better idea that yeah, they are like and like. Is this the first couple that's actually kissed? For some reason I think these two would be quite rampant behind closed doors... I think it's because Julius is so obvious in his affection and the shy Candace so obviously reciprocates it._

_"Juli" is actually his Japanese name, if I am correct. But I thought it was a nice touch._

_A little more backstory on Luna and Gill too ;) don't worry, "they lived happily ever after." (and made shed loads of cash in the fashion and land-development industries respectively.)_


	6. Kathy and Owen

_A/N: as written in my challenge for Chase titled 'Dissedi' in my preferred headcanon Toby grew up on the island with the rest of the marriage candidates, but since it was established in his oneshot here that he and Renee met as adults he will sadly be missing from the following scenes._

_This chapter is dedicated to my friend Nikki, aka myhairyface, because for some reason she likes the sweet lunk-head of a miner Owen and told me that this would be her favourite chapter. I hope this lives up to expectations; I suppose I like him a little bit better now as well... It's another long and angsty one..._

* * *

><p>This is a love-story of childhood friends.<p>

He is a firm believer in a hammer and the ground beneath his feet.

And she is cursed. Her curse begins and ends with snow.

* * *

><p>They are thirteen and twelve and the habit of hand-holding has only just become awkward and unseemly. Their male friends have always protested noisily, making faces with their noses scrunched, until at last she would chase them away, kicking up dirt. The other girls were few and far between. They were content to plan their wedding but at the same time wary in their early maturing: she was so very much like the boys.<p>

Owen was a bashful youth; happy when she was happy and concerned when she was not. He was popular with the other kids for his kind generosity and open personality, but he never stood out in a crowd. That would have been Luke, and despite the two having grown up practically attached at the hip Owen had never absorbed any of those eccentricities that set him apart.

Kathy was the girl next door except that she actually lived above a bar. She was pretty and kind and usually well-spoken, but she had a wild streak. She could exercise it riding horses, combing our their sleek manes, and cleaning their shoes, but sometimes it came out like spitfire- driving away those that might harm the things she loved. Adoration came to her in great waves but there was always some capriciousness that stole it away.

"_-You aren't what I imagined."_

"_-You're quite strong for a girl." _

She didn't mind. She didn't brush her hair, wear her pretty chequered dress, or keep her nails tidy for the attention. She did it because her mother taught her well. And in her absence her father picked up the slack. The thick hands of a soldier might not plait the nicest braids but they were still the best ones. Kathy asked him to do it for her until she was thirteen when she realized that he was tired.

Owen was like that too.

"You don't have to hold my hand." She frowned.

"Sorry," he apologized for the habit, dropping it awkwardly.

It was suddenly very cold; the deep winter months seeming cruel. She tucked her nose into her red woollen scarf. The other villager children absorbed them into their throng and without Owen's hand they were separated.

In the schoolyard the girls and the boys divided naturally. Luna was showing the others her nail-polish which was a first amongst them and done by Shelly's meticulous eye. It was a luminous pink dotted with white flowers. Anissa nearly swooned. Maya pretended to be interested while not-so-secretly keeping an eye on the back of Chase's head as he stood next to the fencing. Renee smiled politely turning instead to Kathy and asking if she would be visiting tonight.

"I think so," She fidgeted, feeling ill-at-ease and not quite understanding the reason why. A red rubber ball crashed into the corner of the monkey bars beside them causing Candace to yelp. Luke and Owen were jogging over to retrieve it.

"Sorry!" the carpenter's son grinned, kicking up muddy slush as he ran, "my bad!"

Luna was breathing fire, standing guard in front of her sister but nearly a head shorter. "Can't you keep to one side!" she spat, "There isn't enough room here for you to mess around right in the middle. Someone might get hurt!"

Kathy bent for the ball, ignoring the brown slop that dripped from its side while the other girl's seemed to almost visibly recoil. Luke was devastated; he was never very good at hiding his feelings with such an honest face. Owen caught up behind him and gave her a quizzical look.

A lump formed in her throat and her face felt hot. She threw the messy ball to Luke who caught it like it had been a perfect pass and not the hasty meandering throw she'd fumbled over.

"It's fine, no one's hurt, just go."

Luke flinched unused to harshness from her of all people. Owen's curiosity turned to a shade of concern.

"It's just that... we were about to make a snowman and you're messing up all the good snow!" she backpedalled quickly.

"Alright!" Maya cheered.

"Ew, no." Luna grumbled, although safely pacified.

"Oh okay Kathy," Luke smiled, balancing the ball with one hand and heading away. "Sorry again girls!" Owen hesitated, still watching her with a steadfastness that caused her cheeks to flare again.

_don't speak to me i'm doing this for your own good please goddess don't say anything at all_

But her prayers went unanswered.

"Want to play with us?" he asked simply, ignoring Luke's arm looped in his and pulling him away. For a moment her heart felt light, the heaviness of her boots seemed to melt away; there was no playground, no other people only Owen's clear brown eyes. Everything was easy: she wanted to play, she wanted to run, and she wanted to hold his hand. Owen wasn't tired; he still wanted exactly the same as she did. Anissa giggled warmly, and it all came crashing down.

"No!" She shrieked, lurching away. The bell rang and the modest crowd of children formed again, arranged in lines for the roll call. At some point she was snuggled between Renee and Maya, the warmth of the shorter blonde comforting at her back.

"It's okay Kathy, I understand."

But Kathy did not. She felt numb. This time Owen did not speak to her.

For weeks she walked to school alone, her hand lonely and cold, and her knit scarf doing little to soothe her. Maya stuck to her like glue, even more so than before, her buoyancy and presence like a charm to ward off evil. Most of the time she could ignore the nagging sensation that she seemed lost, most of the time she could smile at him across the yard and pretend that she didn't remember, instead engrossing herself in the increasingly girlish activities.

But it never went away. Owen was drifting further from her and it was she who had pushed him. What was the reason? That was the part she truly couldn't remember. For his own good, she recalled, but then why did she feel so guilty?

"Kathy," he said again; snapping her from her reverie. She nearly fell out of her desk.

"Hmm?"

"Your dad's order is finished. Grandpa asked me if you would come and pick it up for him."

"Oh, sure, okay," she stammered lightly.

"We'll go together." Owen glanced at her briefly, as though being careful of his words.

"O-okay." She ignored the significant looks she got from Maya and Anissa as her ears burned.

After school she dawdled with her books until most of the others had left. Owen waited patiently and didn't question it. When they got outside she busied herself wrapping her scarf until she'd nearly strangled herself and missed it: Owen's hand was open and extended. She took it without a second thought, blaming the deeply-ingrained routine in them both. She smiled madly, unable to help herself.

Snow began to fall and the air got colder, their breath escaping in little white puffs; still she wished that the length of the road home would grow that little bit longer.

"Owen?" she dared to speak against the perfect silence.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" he smiled at her, only partially concealed by his own broadening shoulders. In her relief she conceded a giggle which bubbled up helplessly, and then finally gave into a fit of full, tinkling laughter. He joined in effortlessly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

She breathed easy for the first time in what felt like years; they were still children. They could remain children for as long as they wanted. It hadn't been she that was in the wrong at all, and her unexplainable feelings were nothing more than the traces of her shame.

"Kathy," Owen called her back for the second time that day, stalling their forward strides.

"Yeah?"

The snowfall obscured her vision; the faraway sun leaving the island seasonably dark. He seemed tall; taller than ever. Owen lips bumped against hers crudely and then they were gone, the remains of that warmth the only evidence that it had ever happened. He pulled her hand.

Kathy's mind had become a muddled explosion; everything she was and would ever be was funnelled down into her feet just to start them moving again. _Left, right, left, right..._ When they reached the blacksmith's she took her father's heavy package, thanked Ramsey, and ruffled Chloe's hair. She left with a smile and a wave, as they were used to seeing, and then she ran home, nearly tripping several times and she slid on the fresh yet over-saturated snow.

They don't talk about the kiss again until they are twenty and eighteen-going-on-nineteen.

"So," he popped his knuckles crisply. "Do we have a deal?"

Kathy squirmed. Her leather hide boots felt suddenly tight as her temperature reached new volcanic-like highs. She wanted to say _no, of course not_, _idiot_ but something shameful is instead crying _yes-yes_ and it's that which she unexpectedly blurts out.

"Deal!" They shook hands firmly. Her usual mount looked steady and willing as ever; big brown eyes speaking to her softly: _'time to run?' _She slips into his saddle fluidly, finding the stirrups and pulling the reign snug inside her fist.

How can she lose? She's been riding horses since she was six and she's never been beaten. Not that the island offered much competition for racing... She'd heard once that Hanna was formerly a high-calibre trainer, but riding was now sadly behind her. Renee herself would usually stop at a canter, careful of her chickens and the other wildlife that resided there.

In short she should be confident.

Except that atop his steed, Owen, who was both finely muscled and yet unwieldy in body mass, looked more than confident himself. His balance was flawless, his rapport with the horse perfectly natural; Kathy felt her breath catch terribly in her throat.

She rubbed the stallion's neck encouragingly, and felt calmed herself. Any further thought was banished. From here out there was only the sound of her pony and the wind. Just like always.

The animals were excited but there were no false-starts. Owen matched her for speed. She pushed her weight forward, urging them faster, her back flat against the sky and her hips high. She squeezed the stallion tight around the wide grassy corners throwing him out by a few seconds but it was enough.

There was Renee at the gate, her plaid handkerchief held aloft and waiting. Her eyes were bright with excitement. Kathy smirked, the currents of air whipping at her fringe.

_See? Nothing to worry about._

The rhythm of her horse thrummed in her veins. Renee's mouth was pinched in surprise a mere yard ahead. The noise of her pony and her imminent victory were suddenly overpowered. Owen was galloping next to her in a flurry of brown and whooping.

Renee's handkerchief dropped.

"No!" She cried.

"Oh yes!" He grinned, dismounting in one smooth movement. Kathy's horse shook its mane and whinnied in disapproval as she guided it in at a trot. Her cheeks flamed as she handed him over to Renee.

Owen folded his arms, his eyebrows quirking mischievously. "So, are you going to hold up your end of the bet?"

Kathy slipped off the saddle, careful of her skirt which was comfortable but short. "O-of course. We shook didn't we?" Her leaden feet carried her across from him and no further.

It would be her first kiss.

"Close your eyes."

Only it wasn't was it? He'd bargained for this one and he'd already stolen the first.

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter, just do it!"

Owen chuckled, arms still crossed, and obeyed. Like this she could almost see the boy in him again; light fanning eyelashes, straight nose, and smooth forehead- a little dusty from the mines but still ruggedly handsome. His shoulders were thick and sinewy, and his arms were defined from long hours of labouring next to his grandfather. She'd been by his side all along so when had he gone and grown-up so much?

His lips twitched in a smirk. "I'm waiting."

"Oh shush!" she sputtered, hands fisting at her sides. She squeezed her eyes shut and puckered. Her feet which were still as heavy as concrete blocks dared to take another step forward but there was nothing. Not the warmth of his lips or the sound of his breathing like before.

Owen chuckled darkly again. "Do you always kiss like this, Kath?"

Her eyelids shot open and her legs wobbled. Owen was still a foot or two away and grinning madly.

"Ah! You! It...It's my first time!"

"Oh?" He smiled at her, concealing something that might have been actual surprise with smugness. "So you really wanted to kiss me then?"

Kathy saw the snow, falling dimly that day and alighting upon their clasped mittens. Her entire body shook and hot angry tears welled up in her eyes. The sun was high in the afternoon and yet her time was stuck.

How could he; how could he do this to her twice?

"You're an idiot..." she said faintly.

"What?"

"You're such an idiot!" She shouted, turning at the same time. And then she ran. She ran as fast as her human legs could carry her and longed desperately for her horse; behind her she could still hear him calling her name- calling her back.

* * *

><p>The bar was fairly empty that night and Kathy complained to her father of menstrual cramps. As sympathetic as Hayden could be there would always be feminine issues he wasn't comfortable dealing with, so of course the lie worked. She lay stretched out on her bed upstairs with the white ceiling above cleansing her thoughts and a small desk fan throwing cool air at her unbuttoned shirt. Maya had knocked at her door earlier offering cake and tea and a friendly ear but Kathy had declined. She just wasn't sure what there was left to say.<p>

It had been nearly seven years since the first time; she couldn't possibly expect him to still remember it or even care. She'd waited too long, hesitating between the confusing feelings of friendship and budding romance. The boy she'd fallen in love with was gone, and along with him went any chances at divulging that love. Any further prodding at the open wound and she might simply bleed out: she would stick to her choice.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she chanted, rolling onto her front and burying her face into the pillow.

Trapped in the deep haze of her own pillow-muffled misery she did not even hear the short volley of pebbles that skipped against the window pane.

* * *

><p>Seasons passed and birthdays granted everyone another year's wisdom. Other friendships in the village became marriages and their families rejoiced. The island may not have been expanding but the youth didn't seem troubled by it. Kathy herself found no room for despair, her job at the Inn was becoming busy enough to interfere with her daily ride. Since the port reopened the amount of casual and long-stay guests was abundant in comparison to the years before. She didn't concern herself with finding new suitors though there were those that tried their luck; instead she worried herself over her family's health.<p>

"Careful!" she caught a glass dexterously as it was knocked carelessly to the edge of a table. The patrons grimaced their ineptitude and apologized. She set the glass across the bar and shook her head, Hayden washing and replacing it within seconds.

"I don't know Dad, maybe we need a holiday."

"Mainland?" he offered gruffly without looking up. His discerning smile hid inside his deep beard.

"Too expensive…" Kathy sighed.

"-Order up," a plate plonked down in front of her, Chase disappearing back into the kitchen without so much as a glance. She rolled her eyes and retrieved it with the fresh dishrag she kept slung over one shoulder. She scissored between tables, hips swinging with purpose, and placed the dish in front of the waiting customer.

"It's hot," she warned, but was instead met with a laugh.

"I think I can handle it," Owen smiled. His blackened knuckles brushed across her wrist as he reached for the fork and she took care to notice his slightly ruddy cheeks.

"Don't stay too late, you're working tomorrow remember." With a polite mouthful of food he instead saluted with his knife and Kathy deigned to sigh again. "Don't you ever eat at home?"

"Ah," he laughed good-naturedly, "Chase's stuff beats Chloe's cooking any day…"

"Whatever," she shifted her weight, trying to feign disinterest, "just remember that they need you."

"-Order up!"

Owen grabbed her wrist before she could leave; his wide hands not at all unkind.

"Thank you,"

"Oh," She paused, enough time for Chase to shout the order again; she nodded a smile and was freed.

"Back to work Young Miss," he teased; his deep growl sending something dangerously akin to a shiver up her spine- at that she made a beeline back to the bar.

Chase was hovering over the cooling plate of food, all treacherously raised eyebrows and obvious intrigue. "Are we a bit distracted tonight, Kathy?" Maya had appeared, mop in hand and looking a little bedraggled but bright-eyed with curiosity nevertheless.

She swiped the plate away, indignant heat rising to her cheeks, "Stuff it Chase..."

And so continued her curse: and no matter of time could change it.

To some it was as obvious as the faded summer freckles that decorated the slope of her shoulders, or the same twisting curl that her hair always fell into once it was tied up. But cursed as she was, it could also be considered a small mercy; her friendship with Owen remained unaltered. Whether he'd taken notice of her fleeting moments of clumsiness he had never once offered any observation or treated her with anything less than the fondness of a precious childhood friend.

It was this small mercy that allowed her to continue, unerring. Spending spare moments together, smiling and greeting with playful fondness, seeing to each other's old familial scars which would reopen on anniversaries and holidays. They may not have held hands since that winter so long ago, but that invisible tie remained. She no longer wished for more as much as her chest might sometimes burn.

Owen was a devoted patron of their Brass Bar. He frequented not only for Chase's specials but also to serve as a guinea pig for Hayden's new cocktails. He wasn't one to end the night in a stupor, he held his liquor well and could drink nearly all of the sailors under the table, but he did enjoy the mature atmosphere. Selena danced, and he cheered, jostling Luke out of his dazed fascination. Such was commonplace. Kathy was both delighted and disturbed by his obedient presence.

"Don't you think it's time to go home?" she nudged him one night not altogether gently; she'd dropped a plate and bumped her head on an open cupboard door and she wasn't in the most patient of moods.

He drank from his near-empty tumbler without pause. "Nah, I'll stay."

"Owen," she began, sighing and resting her tray against her thigh while she prepared her lecture. The tables were all but deserted. Chase had finished his shift and cleaned the kitchen within an inch of spotlessness. Maya was trying her best not to nod off while completing the evening's guest register and balancing the cash float at the reception desk.

"Leave the boy be," Hayden's voice drifted from behind her. He was fist deep inside a stein glass and scrubbing dutifully.

She gave in stubbornly, retracting her sermon and crossing her arms with a shrug or reluctance instead. Owen was strangely silent, staring into his glass intently, and while she no longer needed to lecture him she was unwilling to leave him alone.

She reached out to brush soot from his crop of unruly spiked hair at the same time that he lifted his head to fix he to the spot with stormy eyes of grey. The contact might not have answered her questions but that look did. She was electrified and completely unprepared.

"...Be my wife."

The room span, Maya had fallen out of her chair, "_What_?"

"Marry me," he clarified and his seriousness was almost jarring. She forced herself to remember their race and while her stomach did ridiculous little flips she managed to frown. Her voice however was not as reliable.

"I...I can't," she warbled. His expression did not change.

"Why not?" her father interrupted; there wasn't even a hint of surprise gracing his words.

"B-because!" she swivelled to him, tears springing to her eyes, "I'm worried about what will happen if I do."

Hayden only chuckled, "I'm worried about what will happen if you don't."

Owen caught her hand and stood. The conspiratorial nature of his relationship with Hayden was simply too insignificant at this point to scrutinize- he pulled her away and the tray naturally left her grip to rest upon the abandoned table.

Outside the snow was falling. The island was blanketed in serenity and the glow of lantern light was like dim orange balls of distilled sunshine fighting against the white. The cold air hit Kathy's skin like needles and she submitted to a full body shiver almost immediately. Owen wrapped her in his arms, drawing her deep inside his sheepskin coat.

"What's going on," she asked timorously, suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands. Flustered, she allowed them to remain trapped at her sides under his strong embrace. His warmth permeated her thin shirt-sleeves.

"I've wanted to do this for a while," he hummed, close to her ear. At this she began a futile push against the chest that warmed her.

"Stop kidding around,"

"I'm not joking and I'm not letting you go," He squeezed her tighter, until her breath was nearly forced free.

"okay, okay, okay!"

"I should have done this a long time ago..."

Kathy's tears ran free and mixed with the snowflakes that hit her cheeks. Her arms fell back to her sides.

"I'm sorry Kath," he said softly, pressing a whisper of a kiss against her forehead, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing already," she chastised gently; her giddiness was beginning to expand.

"Alright," His hold readjusted by mere millimetre and then she was once again looking into those eyes. They were grave, mischievous, compassionate, and mature all in one. The boy she knew and loved buried away but always there.

He kissed her under the winter night sky, under the snowfall, and her curse was lifted.


End file.
